Even as she finished her husband bounded back out, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, flowers for his dear Meralda. Priscilla took one look at her fawning brother, gave a great cry, and ran into the castle.
Feringal watched her go, confused, but so little did he care what Priscilla thought or felt these days that he didn't even bother to ask Meralda about it.
Meralda, too, watched the wretched woman depart. Her smile was wrought from more than delight at her husband's thoughtful present. Much more.
*****
Morik said his farewells to Wulfgar and to Delly, then began at once to reestablish himself on Luskan's streets. He took a room at an inn on Half-Moon Street but spent little time there, for he was out working hard, telling the truth of his identity to those who needed to know, establishing a reputation as a completely different man, Burglar Brandeburg, to those who did not.
By the end of the week many nodded in deference as he passed them on the streets. By the end of the month, the rogue no longer feared retribution from the authorities. He was home again, and soon things would be as they had been before Wulfgar had ever come to Luskan.
He was leaving his room one night with just that in mind when he stepped out of his bedroom door into the inn's upper hallway. Instead he found himself sliding through a dizzying tunnel, coming to rest in a crystalline room whose circular walls gave the appearance of one level in a tower.
Dazed, Morik started to reach for his dagger, but he saw the ebon-skinned forms and changed his mind, wise enough not to resist the dark elves.
"You know me, Morik," said Kimmuriel Oblodra, moving close to the man.
Morik did, indeed, recognize the drow as the messenger who had come to him a year before, bidding him to keep a watch over Wulfgar.
"I give you my friend, Rai-gy," Kimmuriel said politely, indicating the other dark elf in the room, one wearing a sinister expression.
"Did we not ask you to watch over the one named Wulfgar?" Kimmuriel asked.
Morik stuttered, not knowing what to say.
"And have you not failed us?" Kimmuriel went on.
"But. . but that was a year ago," Morik protested. "I have heard nothing since."
"Now you are in hiding, in disguise, knowing your crime against us," said Kimmuriel.
"My supposed crimes are of another matter," Morik stuttered, feeling as if the very walls were tightening around him. "I hide from the Luskan authorities, not from you."
"From them you hide?" said the other drow. "Help you, I can!" He strode over to Morik and lifted his hands. Sheets of flame erupted from his fingertips, burning Morik's face and lighting his hair on fire. The rogue howled and fell to the floor, slapping at his singed skin.
"Now you appear different," Kimmuriel remarked, and both dark elves chuckled wickedly. They dragged him up the tower stairs into another room, where a bald-headed drow holding a great plumed purple hat sat comfortably in a chair.
"My apologies, Morik," he said. "My lieutenants are an excitable lot."
"I was with Wulfgar for months," Morik claimed, obviously on the edge of hysteria. "Circumstance forced us apart and forced him from Luskan. I can find him for you-"
"No need," said the drow in the chair, holding up his hand to calm the groveling man. "I am Jarlaxle, of Menzoberranzan, and I forgive you in full."
Morik rubbed one hand over what was left of his hair, as if to say that he wished Jarlaxle had been so beneficent earlier.
"I had planned for Wulfgar to be my primary trading partner in Luskan, my representative here." Jarlaxle explained. "Now, with him gone, I ask you to assume the role."
Morik blinked, and his heart skipped a beat.
"We will make you wealthy and powerful beyond your dreams," the mercenary leader explained, and Morik believed him. "You'll not need to hide from the authorities. Indeed, many will invite you to their homes almost daily, for they will desperately want to remain in good standing with you. If there are any you wish. . eliminated, that too, can be easily arranged."
Morik licked what was left of his lips.
"Does this sound like a position Morik the Rogue would be interested in pursuing?" Jarlaxle asked, and Morik returned the dark elf's sly look tenfold.
"I warn you," Jarlaxle said, coming forward in his chair, his dark eyes flashing, "if you ever fail me, my friend Rai-gy will willingly alter your appearance yet again."
"And again," the wizard happily added.
"I hate wizards," Morik muttered under his breath.
*****
Wulfgar and Delly looked down on Waterdeep, the City of Splendors. The most wondrous and powerful city on the Sword Coast, it was a place of great dreams and greater power.
"Where are ye thinkin' we'll be staying?" the happy woman asked, gently rocking the child.
Wulfgar shook his head. "I have coins," he replied, "but I don't know how long we'll remain in Waterdeep."
"Ye're not thinkin' to make our lives here?"
The barbarian shrugged, for he hadn't given it much thought. He had come to Waterdeep with another purpose. He hoped to find Captain Deudermont and Sea Sprite in port, or hoped that they would come in soon, as they often did.
"Have you ever been to sea?" he asked the woman, his best friend and partner now, with a wide smile.
It was time for him to get Aegis-fang back.